Good morning, Marley.

You only wish that you could begin your days like this.

To begin, you would bounce out of bed and slip on your fluffiest pink tutu, right over your pajama pants.  You'd run around the house like this for a while and feel like a fairy ballet-er.  So beautiful.  Then you'd find your brightest, most-rainbowest necklace and put it on.  You'd color for a little while in the playroom, maybe a My Little Pony picture, maybe your own rendition of a turkey friend having a pirate hunt.

You would run upstairs when you hear Rudy squeaking*, and you'd read to her a little and make up a song for her, too.  Then you'd head back down to the kitchen before your dad leaves for school.  He'd make you a bowl of Cheerios, pour milk in the cupcake cup with a straw, and set you up at the kitchen table with an oversized jar of wine corks so that you could play with them.  Some corks would be mommies and some would be daddies; some would be sisters and some would be babies.  Some would be smushy and you would just squeeze them and want to explode with happiness.

You would need to get ready for preschool so that you're not late for Circle Time, but you would be blissfully unaware of the clock except for when your mom bustles by tidying something and announcing that you only have twenty minutes.  To get ready, you would simply change into a different pink skirt and a different white shirt.  You would keep on your necklace and add some pirate legwarmers and a rainbow fleece hoodie so that you won't be cold if your class goes outside to the playground.

It would be fabulous, and then, later in the day, you would be encouraged to nap!

*Last week, Todd and I were lucky enough to start our day this way:

Marley was hopping around our room, but when she heard Rudy crying in her crib, she raced upstairs and yelled, "Hode on, Wooty!  I'm comin'!"